


Firië ho Miriel

by MMaglor



Series: Damned Kinslayers [4]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Childhood Trauma, F/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 10:23:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11056974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMaglor/pseuds/MMaglor
Summary: A version of how Miriel died when Fëanor was still a child.





	Firië ho Miriel

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here is the result of reading Morgoth’s Ring and The Peoples of Middle-Earth in so short a time XD ! I took in the books a bit of the two versions of the death of Miriel and I also changed the way she die because in that one shot she don’t speak to Finwë before leaving her body. Anyway, I hope you will want to read it the same.
> 
> Also, I saw in The Peoples of Middle-Earth and Morgoth’s Ring that Fëanor, before acquiring his final Father-name “Kurufinwë”, was named Minyafinwë (little Finwë), Finwë or Finwion so I choose one of those names in my one shot.
> 
> This work can be viewed as a part of my series Damned Kinslayers that I only write in French and Spanish but you can read it alone if you don’t speak the language.
> 
> Amya : Mum.  
> Atto : Dad, daddy.

Through the window the day was ending and the stars slowly appearing.

Next to the bed, he was sitting quietly and watching the fabric adorned with colorful patterns stretch and cascade until it was touching the floor. In the room sounded a constant and soothing “tic tic tic” so he made his little wooden horse ran in rhythm with the sound, imagining that it was quick hoof sound. Suddenly, he stopped. An idea seemed to have made his way to his mind and he frowned in concentration before raising his head up, enthusiastically.

─ Amya ! He called with excitement. I think I know how I will call it!

The bed sheets seemed to move slightly and the first thing he saw was long blond hair – almost white – before a peaceful face appeared.

The figure, a young woman now sitting on the bed, was smiling gently, her gray-blue eyes patient and encouraging in spite of the slight circles under them and her skin, although naturally pale, had an ill appearance.

─ How would you like to call it ?

─ Nórnorë ! Said with pride the child still sitting on the ground.

─ Nórnorë ? The young woman asked, tilting slightly her head puzzled.

─ Yes, because it will be the best at the race Amya ! The boy explained content with himself.

─ Oh, I see. Calmly replied the woman a small but sincere smile drawing on his lips. It is very nice name that you chose. Names are important Minya.

Minya returned her smile with one of his own, wide and full of innocence. After briefly getting back to his carefree games, he seemed to be taken by thought. Quickly, he raised his head and asked with hope:

─ Amya will you soon come with me outside to see how fast Nórnorë is ?

─ Amya is tired Minya. The weary answer came after a few seconds and the child bowed his head disappointed.

─ Are you not rested now Amya ? After lying down so long in bed... ? Minya muttered pooting, but sorrow filled his eyes as well.

Amya was always too tired but... She had always been very tired so maybe it was normal that she did not want to play... ? A sigh interrupted his reflections and the colored fabric moved, rising up on the bed before the voice of the woman reached him again

─ Come. He heard her say. I will show you something.

He hurried up to the bed, huddling in the arms of the woman who passed her arm around him to let him in. Then, placing a kiss on his temple, the woman seized the fabric she was working on and put it back in place before drawing the child's attention, her fingers sliding over the reliefs.

─ Look. She said softly. I will finish it soon.

And Minya looked.

The fabric was ample and its red woven edges were sewn with gold threads arranged in beautiful curls and arabesques. The fabric, a kind of blanket, showed an only one image in bright but harmonious colors : Three figures, occupying almost all the space available on the cover, stood by each other and their colorful clothes shone with beauty and refinement. The first person, a tall, brown-haired man, was draped in a broad red robe spun with gold, and seemed to carry on his head a sparkling silver crown; The second personage, although having dark hair and sporting that same proud expression, was much smaller in size and clearer in hair; The third, a woman as tall as the man with the silver crown, was also adorned with the most beautiful jewels and graceful, she emanated the same presence inciting respect.

─ I know who they represent ! Exclaimed the child turning his little face happy and excited towards Amya.

With a small nod and a smile from the blonde woman he went on pointing at the characters, each in turn.

─ This is Noldóran ! Announced the child, pointing to the crowned man.

─ Noldóran... ? The woman repeated, raising an eyebrow and leaning her head slightly.

─ Yes Amya ! Confirmed Minya shaking his head vigorously. This is how the people of the palace call Atto !

─ Yes you are right Minya. She proudly approved. And do you know why they call him that way ?

The little boy frowned in concentration and then finally raised his head towards the woman, hesitant.

─ Because he lead the... people on these lands... ? He asked before moving quickly. That's what Atto told me when I asked him.

─ Yes, for that and many other things. Confirmed the blonde woman before giving to the child one of her weak smiles.

Minya seemed to hesitate, wondering if he could find out of what other things Amya was talking about but eventually decided that it did not interest him at the moment. So he returned to the contemplation of the work before him and the characters.

─ On the other side it is you, Amya. He continued pointing this time at the woman adorned with jewels. And... Does it mean that this one in the middle is me Amya... ? Am I really this... Small ?

He looked up at the woman and her brown little eyebrows rose in a questioning look. The woman felt joy and the desire to laugh out loud while contemplating the innocent face of the little boy but, breathless as she was, only a light hiss left her lungs before she felt her breath being cut off painfully.

─ Yes my little... She began after regaining some of his breath ...Fëanáro.

Minya, who had returned to watching the blanket after receiving confirmation that yes, this little being no bigger than a finger on this cover was indeed him, opened eyes wide and turned himself completely towards the woman this time, an expression of astonishment and insatiable curiosity on his face.

─ Is that the name you chose for me Amya? He asked, barely able to contain his curiosity, let alone his ecstatic behavior.

─ Yes Minyafinwë. Declared the woman's weak voice solemnly despite the smile that bent her lips. You will now wear this mother-name I gave you.

The child's face lit up with a smile almost too wide for him as he could not contain the joy he felt.

─ I am Minyafinwë Fëanáro ! He proclaimed in a burst of joy, his voice too enthusiastic to appear regal despite all the effort he put into it.

─ Yes. Say Amya in a breathless voice but animated by his reaction. My Fëanáro.

─ We have to go and announce it ! Decided the newly named with fervor and conviction. Amya, let's announce it to Atto and to all !

Upon this, he seized the woman's hand and began to get out of bed. But he stopped quickly when he realized that she did not move. Confused, he gave her a puzzled look and she smiled reassuringly in return.

─ Amya is tired my Fëanáro. She told him with an apologetic look.

Minyafinwë lowered his eyes again sad and disappointed but he quickly raised them anew, his joy always present although a little lessened.

─ Then we will go announce it later in the day. Said the child, clinging to this hope and snuggling back against the woman, burring his head in her shoulder, When you feel better Amya.

The woman did not answer and when after a few seconds, Minyafinwë looked up at her, he saw her eyes closed and her chest getting swollen with air in the same sudden manner it always had. His chest then came down again just as suddenly and his lips opened slightly to give way to the exaltation that followed before it became finally silent.

 

Minya then felt something he did not understand.

 

Slowly, he stood up on his knees and moved slightly away from Amya but kept his eyes on her.

She was there, quiet and silent as usual, beautiful and with her eyes closed, asleep, as usual. But... Something was different. Even though Amya was in bed and had her eyes shut, Minya did not feel the joy and peace that surrounded her as when Amya dreamed. His eyes did not tremble; his chest did not move and Minya... He... could not see her anymore. She was facing him in this bed as she had always been and yet she did not seem to be there anymore as if she had just risen to go to the next room. But then, Amya was not in the next room...

He did not understand...

Where did Amya go?

Why could he not see her?

─ Amya... ? He called in a small voice, his lips twitching and his eyes filling with tears. Where have you gone ?

And it was all he succeeded in saying before he felt the fear completely overwhelm him.

Then he wailed.

Kneeling on the bed he looked through his tear-stained eyes at Amya who was still not there and his cry resonated in all the room and further away, telling of his total misunderstanding and terror.

Steps sounded in the corridor but he did not hear them and when the door opened suddenly, he hiccupped and looked in that direction before crying again, heart-breaking screams. Through his tears, he saw Atto on the doorstep. A few seconds passed and he felt Atto's arms take him and lift him up, embrace him tightly. _Too tightly_. The next moment they were out of the room and Minya continued to cry and scream buried in his shoulder and thick red coat.

He was afraid and wanted Amya but he did not know where she had gone. And then Atto began to run and Minya was even more scared.

 

 _Atto never run_.

 

Something had to be very wrong. Because he had _never run_.

Between his tears and his hiccups, he felt the heart of Atto beat horribly fast and his breathing had become as quick as Amya. Hidden in the protection that offered the red cloth, Fëanáro suddenly felt his entire body freeze and his breath stop. He opened his eyes, wide and pale, tearful and panicked.

If Atto had begun to breathe like Amya, did that mean that he would soon be tired like her? Did that mean that he... would soon leave too ?


End file.
